Clash of Elements
by offtofeelthings
Summary: Katara of the North is told by her father that she is to marry Prince Zuko, future King of the Seven Kingdoms. The two strangers both have dark secrets and dangerous enemies. Death is coming for them and everyone they love. Loosely based on Game of Thrones. You do not have to have read/watched Game of Thrones to understand (and hopefully enjoy) this story.
1. Anguished Urgencies

**A/N: Hello my precious readers. (If I have any...) I have no idea how long I intend to make this, and I have no idea if anyone will want to read it. I would say that it is going to be pretty long, and if anyone wants me to continue it, I would be thrilled if you would give it a review and/or go to my tumblr.. (offtofeelthings) and drop in a message. :) yay for life**

**Summary: Katara of the North is told by her father that she is to marry Prince Zuko, future King of the Seven Kingdoms. The two strangers both have dark secrets and dangerous enemies. Death is coming for them and everyone they love. Loosely based on Game of Thrones.**

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN EITHER ATLA OR GAME OF THRONES. **

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"Lady Katara?"

"Yes?"

"Your father requests your presence in the dining hall."

"Oh does he now?"

"Yes my lady. He said it was urgent." The sigh that came out of her mouth was anything but ladylike, and Katara inwardly cringed thinking about Septa Hama whipping her for her ill-mannered tendencies. Her father's urgent was quite typically not anything close to what Katara would call urgent.

As she stood the fabric of her blue dress rustled and fell quickly to rest against the heated stone floor of her chamber. Her bare feet clapped against the ground as she followed the guard out of the door. She had fought with her father many times about shoes. One particularly bad fight had ended in him calling her barbaric and too uncivilized to be Lady Kya's daughter. Now when she walked without shoes she did it to spite Lord Hakoda; the lack of shoes could never take away the striking resemblance to her long passed mother.

The worn leather book in her hands was still open to her current page when she handed it off to one of the hand maids to return to the library. The young girl of approximately fourteen gave a quick curtsy before taking the book without a word and walking in the opposite direction of Katara's intended destination. If her father saw another book about sorcery in her hands he would lock her out of the library and forbid reading. He always told her that being curious about sorcery was like being curious about death. It only ever ended in one thing.

Her feet grew cold as they reached the area of the castle where the stones weren't heated from below, but she hardly noticed it as she thought to be nervous about the urgent news. The guard standing watch at the dining hall opened one of the heavy wooden doors quickly as she got closer to them.

He bowed his head, but Katara could see that he did not move his gaze down along with his chin. Icy blue that only appeared in northern irises looked up at her from under dark lashes. When her eyes met his they quickly sunk to the ground. This was a common occurrence. She stepped through the doorway and waited for the door to shut behind her before gliding forward.

"Father." He was seated in the middle of the long table, with her brother Sokka next to him. Surrounding the table outside of the men of her family were ten empty chairs, dry goblets and clean plates. Her father typically preferred to have the table full with his men. This night must be different. She felt no need to dab at the edges of the matter and went straight for the kill. "What is the urgent news?"

"Katara, will you dine with us?" Her father, however, felt differently. Katara walked towards them; she was careful on the steps should she not stub her exposed toes. Her waist length hair was in a braid down her back, and she silently cursed her inability to remember her fur-lined cloak. The cold air blew against her near bare shoulders. Her eyes stumble upon Sokka's and he crossed his causing a small giggle to rise in her throat before she turned back to her father. The look on his face squashed any kind of lightheartedness she had within her. She sat gracefully in the seat. The meat set before them was nothing recognizable due to the amount of charring done by the cooks. She never bothered asking what they were eating, and she wasn't going to start now.

"Father what is the news?" She tried again. He reached forward and used a serving fork to slowly rip a piece of meat off of the seared carcass. He put it on his plate before tearing a few more. He wrapped his old tan hands around the tin pitcher of wine and filled his goblet halfway. This was all he ever allowed himself excluding special occasions. Sokka was already gnawing on a rather large piece of meat, and looking at their father carefully out of the corner of his eye. Sitting across from Hakoda she watched as he very painfully dragged out telling her the important news she was summoned for. If not for him she would be dining in her room and reading about sorcery or another. She would prefer to sit alone than to face the uncomfortable stares or Septa Hama forcing her to do needle work. Before her father started eating he looked up at her cautiously.

"Katara," her father began as she slipped forward to the edge of her seat in anticipation, "as you know, when a girl turns of age it is her father's right to marry her to a suitable husband." Her heart that had earlier been stripped of lightheartedness was now also becoming heavy. It was full of dread and worry. Those few words filled her heart with such things that only succeeded in weighing it down.

"Father you can't mean…"

"Katara, word has traveled among the Seven Kingdoms of your coming of age. They say your beauty is incomparable, that you are a rare gem." He looked mildly proud for a moment before she interrupted his trance.

"What are you trying to say?"

"A raven arrived this morning." Panic swelled in her heart even more. She could feel the biting pain underneath her ribcage. Her knuckles were white as her fingers wrapped around the edge of the wooden seat. She could feel splinters lodging in her palm. Her eyes were wide and pooled with emotion.

"What did it say?"

"You are to marry the prince of the Fire Nation." She felt boiling anger, and her hands tightened on the chair so as not to do anything brash.

"You're selling me?" Her voice came out as a partial growl. Her father flinched before rage flashed in his eyes. She wondered how he could be angry for her justified reaction.

"You will be the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms." She stood up and the backs of her knees pushed the chair back, it tilted before falling to the ground with a loud slam. Katara didn't move an inch whereas her brother jumped considerably high.

"I do not wish to be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I do not wish to be the _wife_ of a fire nation tyrant!" Her voice rose to a yell at that point and her cerulean blue irises were full of anger and betrayal. "You have no right!" Her head swung back and forth at that and her entire body shook with anger. She could feel her hands trembling from her need to hit something, but she used her rather large amount of strength to restrain. Her father stood much more gracefully than her and he rubbed his tired eyes. He was a man of thirty-six that had aged faster than many. You could never guess his age, and no one would even try for fear of offending the Leader of the North.

"Katara, I am your father. You are fifteen. Most girls are married at the age of thirteen; you are lucky I have let you go this long without a husband. You are also lucky to be asked to be married to the future king." He pointed at her before pointing at the ground next to him. He was all sharp movements and exaggerated gestures. "You will stand next to the throne; you will help him rule!" Her anger turned to misery as she took a step away from him. The wooden leg of the chair dug into her right calf. Her long blue sleeves were balled up in her fisted hand, and her eyes dragged to the grey stone.

"I don't know him." Her dejected voice was scarcely audible.

"We all have to make sacrifices for the well-being of our family. You have to sacrifice for the safety of the North." Her eyes rolled up to him, and she looked over at Sokka.

"What about him? Why isn't he sacrificing? He is older than I am." Sokka looked up at her and for the first time that night he spoke his mind.

"I have to be the lord of the North in father's place." Her anger slowed down her wit and what Sokka said confused her.

"But father is the lord." Sokka considered Hakoda who in turn nodded at him.

"He is going to the Vale to visit our brothers. The Southern Tribe." A terrifying thought occurred to her.

"I will go to King's Landing alone?" The last bit of anger fizzled out and the anguish returned. She had too much pride to cry in front of her father. He looked distressed as he tilted his head once to confirm her question. "How long?"

"You leave by ship in a fortnight."

Katara looked up at her father before turning around and running down the few steps there were. She took the iron handle of the heavy door and pulled with all her might until it was open just enough to slip through. The guard standing at the door was startled as she lurched past him. Her fingers released her sleeves only to grab onto the skirt of her dress. She picked it up to reveal her ankles and turned her walk into a brisk pace which then turned into a sprint. Her hair that was previously in a lose braid dropped around her face and brown wisps flew behind her. The concerns of maids and guards she passed went in one ear and out another. She could feel the distress that would befall Septa Hama should she run into her, yet she continued in her reckless run. She reached the enclosed spiral stairs and she made it halfway up before her tears caught up to her and she was blinded. One of her hands moved to rest against the cold stone walls that matched the floors and ceilings of every inch of this castle. She slowly slipped to the ground with her dress surrounding her in a pool of nice blue fabric. Her bare knees hit the edge of a step and she felt her skin scrape and wetness spread across her kneecap. The tears stopped coming and she froze in that place at the stairs trying to calm her breathing.

It was right there that the woman found her a few minutes later, the oldest woman of the North that refused to be called anything but Gran. She was only the true grandmother to Sokka and Katara, but she was a sort of nurturer to all. She compassionately pulled up the bruised girl and led her back to her chambers.

It wasn't until Gran's old shaky hands were wiping the blood from Katara's knees that she spoke.

"Sometimes your duty is the very opposite of what you would want for yourself, and sometimes what you want for yourself is your duty." Old wise eyes glanced up at the child that was to be the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. "Listen to me Katara, your mother was the same way about marrying your father." Gran chuckled and Katara looked down at the woman sitting down in front of her dangling legs that were hanging off of the tall bed.

"But they loved each other." Gran smiled and patted her shin before dunking the cloth back into the warm water.

"Your mother and father had to learn to love each other." The warm fabric stung as Gran gently cleaned the dirt from her bloody knees. "Kya yelled and screamed at me, and she cried. It was the hardest thing I had to do. Leaving the safe mountains of our brother tribe to carry my daughter to wed a man she had never met before was awful, but when we got to the docks and she saw this tall handsome man standing there with a beautiful white smile on his face. She stopped and thanked me. It was her duty Katara. And this is yours."

"What if he isn't handsome? What if he doesn't smile at me like father smiled at mother?"

"Not every man is like your father, but that doesn't make him a bad man."

"What if he doesn't like me?" Gran grabbed her hands and looked back up at her granddaughter.

"Child these are all things that you must leave to fate."

Later that night when Katara rested in her bed she thought of all the things she hoped her future husband would be. Before falling asleep she decided that the only real thing she could do before meeting him was hope.


	2. Spirituality

**A/N: So I am actually genuinely surprised by my 21 followers. That is very exciting and I love all 21 of you. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own ATLA or Game of Thrones. I also don't own any of the characters. Which actually sucks. **

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**Chapter 2: Spirituality**

Katara was seeking comfort in the small pond that had been professed sacred long ago. Her body was half submerged and her eyes were turned up to the full moon above her. She prayed to Tui and La as she stared at the source of light and savior from full darkness. The blueness of her dress floated around her as the cold seeped into her dark skin and to the very center of her bones. Her teeth chattered as her palms turned up to the sky just under her bust and her lips moved at a rapid pace. The whispers were barely audible over the sounds that came with it being the middle of the night. The mud in between her toes gave her solace.

"You're going to catch a cold, child." Katara blinked once before closing her eyes and dropping her hands to the water.

"I was praying." Her voice was tired and her mouth was dry.

"Come pray by the fire, and not in the cold water."

"The water is comforting."

"Yes but the fire is warm." At this statement she felt as though the chill of the night hit her tenfold. Shivers started at her fingertips and moved through her veins until it reached her heart and her whole body gave a jolt. She opened her eyes again and slowly turned around to look at the old woman who had helped Gran in raising her. As she stepped out she set off ripples and splashes until a few seconds later when it returned to its calm state. The wind deepened the chill that had begun to set in. It was the type of cold that made you feel as though nothing could warm you.

"We should hurry back. I believe I already have a cold, Hama." The old woman chuckled along with Katara before linking arms and beginning their speedy walk back to the promise of warmth.

The guards gave questioning looks to her half soaked state, but looked away immediately after a deadly glare was given by Hama. A change of clothes and the fire was a relief, and despite her thoughts she did eventually stop shivering.

"Hama?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Why do we pray to the moon?" The woman's old eyes had fire in the glare, and for a second Katara saw an evil sorceress in the place of the kind person who had raised her. It disappeared when she turned towards Katara and her eyes changed back to the comfortable blue. Hama smiled and Katara noticed how she had wrinkles in places that only came from frowning and smooth skin where smile wrinkles formed.

"Why do you pray to the moon, Katara?" The question caught her off guard as insecurities burned in her throat.

"Tonight I was praying for my future marriage." The burning traveled up her throat until it was in her mouth and under her tongue, and she realized that the insecurities had turned to nervous bile. She swallowed it down and along with the pain of the burning as it returned to her stomach and became nervous butterflies.

"Yes, but why?"

"Because that's what my mom taught me."

"Is that the only reason?" Katara thought about how people in the North called her crazy. She was the girl who left in the middle of the night to pray; the one that you would find in the water on a rainy day. When it snowed she sat in her bath for hours until her fingers and toes were pruned and she couldn't tell the difference between water and air. Never did it shock a person to find her basking in the moonlight and sleeping during the day. The night pulled her in and the daylight drained her, but no one understood.

"Yes." Hama's face dropped for a second before it returned to its normal expression.

"We learn our own traditions from our ancestors. However your mother did not enjoy the night as much as you do." Hama placed her hand over Katara's and the two listened to the crackling wood for what seemed to be a minute. "I must be going to sleep now." Katara made a sound of protest. "These old bones need sleep." Hama stood and Katara stood with her. Hama reached up and rubbed the dark circles under Katara's eyes. "Your young bones need sleep." Her exit after that was quiet and unceremonious.

Katara fell in and out of sleep for the remainder of the night.

* * *

The dining hall was full of shouts, bottom of the belly laughs, and the sound of goblets being slammed on the table and meat pulled from the bone. Tables filled the large room and tribes men and women filled the large tables. It was the night before her departure and all the North was feasting in her name. She was seated at a table with the girls close to her age, and she watched absent-mindedly as they giggled at the boys testing each other's strength. Katara thought of how lucky they were to have the freedom to marry one of those men. The envy bit at her patience slowly and painfully. One of the girls flipped her short dark hair over her shoulder and batted her eyes at one boy in particular, and suddenly Katara's patience was gone and in its place was anger.

"Excuse me." She stood hastily and clenched her fists when not one girl at her table turned in acknowledgement. She was never a quiet person, and they were not short of hearing.

Katara let out a frustrated breath and walked towards the large doors that were currently sitting open. She did not have to go far before reaching the door to the outside. She had worn her cloak dinner and tonight she thanked the gods for the fur lining. She fisted her hands in the fur and pulled it close around her as she walked through the cold weather to her target, or rather _the targets._

Lately her temper had been getting the best of her, and she had read books about the things that happened to people in King's Landing that had bad tempers. Her lack of the ability to hold her tongue was quickly becoming her worst enemy. Gran told her that maybe she was meant for King's Landing with how much fire she had in her heart, but then she would say that she had to be like water and learn to adapt to this new lifestyle.

How was she to be water in a place of fire?

The targets were set up in alone with stacks of hay behind it. The armory was across the dirt clearing from it, and was empty of people. Everyone was off at her feast. Katara examined all the carefully made weapons.

"A copper piece says you'll choose the bow and arrow." Her eyes narrowed at the voice.

"A silver piece says you'll choose to return to the feast." Silence ensued and after a few seconds Katara turned towards her brother with apologetic eyes. "I am sorry, Sokka." Her brother had her blue eyes and coloring, but their personalities could not be more different.

"Katara…" Sokka trailed off. He was to be the man of the family, and he knew to show emotion and weakness would bring shame to their family. He stood up straighter and put his chin a little farther up. His deep blue cloak made him look a little bigger than the skin and bones he actually was. He was sixteen, and he had high hopes of being as big and brave as their father. He was also promised to Yue, princess of their southern brothers. He had no reservations.

"Sokka?" His nervous eyes flitted about the armory before returning to her steady ones. He crossed his arms across his chest, and she saw his fingernails dig into the fabric of his sleeve.

"You have to promise me, that you won't try to make people mad where you're going." He looked slightly angry for a second before the worry flooded back into his ocean eyes. "These people aren't family." His teeth clenched and he looked away again. "You aren't very good with people."

"I am!" Her voice was full of indignation and Sokka cringed ahead of time at the anticipated blow to his arm. Sokka laughed as she hit him hard enough to leave a bruise.

"I hope for your husband's sake that he never makes you angry." Both of the siblings' laughs diminished just as quickly as they started. Sokka hit himself on the forehead and closed his eyes. "I am sorry."

"I am sure it is me that is going to have to fear the other's anger, Sokka." Her eyes fell along with her spirit and then she was being pressed against her older brother's chest. She relaxed into the comfort of his arms, and he sighed against the top of her head.

"You don't know that." Katara pulled away from his brotherly embrace and looked him in the eye.

"We've both heard the stories, Sokka." She looked up at the sky and attempted to squash the anger that was rising in her gut. When she looked back down it hadn't retreated, so she snatched the bow and arrows off the wall and went back outside to where there were targets across the clearing. She knew he was following her from noise that came from his leather boots leaving prints in the mud.

"Katara!" His tone was becoming angry as well, but she didn't stop until she was twenty feet from the target. She readied an arrow. "What is happening to you?" She responded to his disgusted voice with a simple one word answer.

"Marriage." Her breath released from her lungs slowly and it was so cold she could see it out of the corner of her eye.

"You used to be so…" Katara released the arrow. A thud echoed throughout the clearing and Katara loaded another one as she stared at the arrow that had narrowly missed the center.

"So what, Sokka?" A puff of air came through her mouth again as she aimed carefully.

"So full of hope." The words caught Katara off guard as she let the arrow go, and she missed the target completely. Everyone had been talking to her of hope lately, and all she could ever do in response was stare at them. She did this now, but Sokka hardly seemed to notice. Her bow dropped to her side and her braid fell over her stooped shoulder.

"Things change." He shook his head and his eyes looked misty as he gave the moon a frustrated glance as if to blame Tui and La for his sister's depleted spirit.

"No, Katara." He pointed at the ground and returned her stare. He spoke firmly and with more passion than she had ever seen him show. Gone, was the playfulness he always had; her well-known brother was now serious. He pointed at her. "Not _you._ You don't change. You've _never_ changed. You have always been so hopeful that I could hardly stand it. I have always had to be the one that showed you the reality of things. _My_ glass was always half empty, _not_ yours." His voice was rising to a point of near shouts; Katara's eyes were wide and glistening. "I know you are going somewhere you don't know, but that's the thing Katara! You _don't_ know! So stop moping, and stop feeling bad for yourself because that is not who you are._ This_ is not who you are." One tear fell from her eyes before she wiped it away and blinked rapidly. She dropped the bow, and wrapped her arms around herself. Sokka was pulling at his already messed up wolf tail and breathing heavily.

"Sokka..."

"No Katara! Don't say things are going to change." His arms flew about his body every time any words left his chapped lips.

"Sokka."

"I'm just really upset, that you are acting so depressed and angry."

"Sokka!"

"What?" She stepped forward and gave him another hug.

"I'm sorry, okay?" When she pulled back he was shaking his head at her.

"I'm going to miss you, stupid head." Katara laughed once before picking up the bow and arrows to put back in the armory.

"I'm going to miss your bad insults."

Together they walked back to Katara's party, and for the remainder of it she tried her hardest to have fun. When she looked back toward Sokka he was smiling at her. It was only when the smile changed into him sticking his tongue out that she laughed and turned away.

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**A/N: Yay!... drop a review in if you please. It does please me.**


	3. Journey to New

**A/N: Hello beautiful people. Have a good read.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these fabulous things.**

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**Chapter Three: Journey to New**

Saying goodbye in the morning was harder than she had wanted. She had hoped that it would be easy, and she would scrape by without any heart pain.

When in truth it hurt too much because it felt like she was losing them just like she had lost her mother. She looked at their faces, and was scared that it would be the last time she saw them. She didn't cry because her brother was right when he said she had to stop feeling bad for herself. That didn't stop her father from letting a few tears escape out of the corner of his eyes. When she pulled away from Sokka, her father hugged her tighter than he had ever before.

"Kya would be proud of you." He rested his forehead against hers as he pulled back, and his hand pulled through the tangles of her hair stopping at the back of her neck.

"I'll write to you, father." After that statement she let out a shaky breath and slipped out of his paternal embrace. If she did not leave now she would not be able to leave at all. Before she could turn away he was gently grabbing her shoulders and clasping her mother's necklace around her throat.

"She would've wanted you to have it." Katara's hand went to her throat as she gently rubbed the tips of her fingers against the small blue pendant.

A man helped her on her horse, and she craned her neck to look back at all the people she would be leaving. Her eyes met with Sokka's and she was disappointed when he didn't pull a face. Gran gave her a solemn smile, and patted her leg. The corner of Katara's mouth tipped up in what could be considered a smile, but it turned into a frown as soon as she felt the small bundle of cloth Gran slipped under Katara's leg. Her horse neighed and turned to leave, but Katara's eyes squinted in confusion at the old woman.

The last thing she saw before the gates to The North closed was Sokka trying to run after her and falling in the mud.

She was glad for that.

* * *

The Tribe's procession to the river was quiet and swift. Katara was traveling with a mere ten men. Her future husband had sent a bird asking whether they would like him to send guards to escort her and Hama to King's Landing. Her father had immediately replied in few words that his men were capable of taking care of his daughter, and when she arrived they would all be staying with her as a personal guard. Katara questioned this, but her father told her curtly by saying that just because she was to marry the man she doesn't have to trust him.

The cloth bundle under her thigh had picked at her brain, and it pushed against the fabric of her dress until she had taken it and carefully placed it down the front of her dress under her wrappings. Her hands had been clammy and shaking from fear of someone seeing, but the men's rowdy conversation continued without a hitch.

Now she was on a beautiful grey horse in the middle of men that were laughing and conversing without her. When she tried to become involved in the conversation out of fear of succumbing to boredom, they simple brushed her off.

"We speak of manly things, not for the ears of a girl."

"Not for the ears of a princess." Another man corrected, and when Katara sent a glare in his direction, she saw that he was not a man. He was a boy of her age, and a little too skinny for his armor. Much like Sokka a few years back.

"If the conversation is for men, than may I inquire as to why you are letting a boy not yet a man such as him contribute?" The men that were not that particular one guffawed in a rather obnoxious way, but she hardly noticed in her pride. She smirked before turning back around and swinging her wild curls over her shoulder in a way that was meant to end the conversation. Her deep blue cloak billowed behind her as she rode on to approach the men leading them.

"Lady Katara, can I help you?"

"It's getting dark, Bato." The man was around her father's age, late thirties. He had grown up with her father, and Hakoda had specifically sent him with Katara due to the amount of trust he harbored for the life-long friend. His hair was dark brown, but if you looked closely you could see small streaks of silver. The people of the North aged well. "The horses need rest. We have been riding all day; your men are grouchy." She looked over her shoulder at the men behind her and watched as one of them yawned. She rolled her eyes as she turned back to Bato.

"We should come across an inn soon, and we will stay there for the night. Tomorrow we will have about a half days journey to the river docks." Bato looked at her out of the corner of his eye before chuckling. "Are my men giving you a hard time, Lady Katara?"

"Nothing I can't handle. I grew up with Sokka; he tried dismissing me many times from manly talks." Her voice lowered in imitation of his on the word manly. Wrinkles spread from the corner of her eyes as she began laughing with Bato. However her laughter came to an abrupt stop when she spotted a large wooden building over the top of the trees. Smoke was billowing out of the chimney and rising into the dark violet skies towards the first few visible stars of the evening. "Look, Bato!"

Katara had never left the walls until this morning, she had never met people who weren't her own or honored respectable visitors. She wondered if these people would be different. If they would be beautiful people or ugly people; if they'd hate her, or love her. They made it there slower than she had wanted, and she watched in wonderment as a small boy came and started taking the reins of their horses. The men started sliding off of their horses, and Katara mimicked their motions, sliding off in a similar fashion. Her dark nearly black dress had to be pulled down afterward, and the back of her cloak swung around her shoulder to lay against the correct spot down her shoulder blades.

Her legs wobbled and she reached for her horse's saddle to steady herself. Her knees felt locked and she was sure she had bruises on her thighs. Her muscles were sore and she accepted the arm gratefully of the guard that offered his elbow. The short walk into the inn was one of relief, pain, and anticipation. The creak of the wooden door opening was followed by the sound of women's laughter and singing, as well as forks scraping plates and goblets hitting wooden tabletops. The sounds were exhilarating and she laughed when she saw how many different kinds of people were gathered in the room they entered. Most of all she was caught by the eyes. Blue eyes she was familiar with, but when she looked around she saw greens and browns. When she looked to the left she saw a boisterous large woman with big grey eyes. She had previously thought grey was a dull, sad color, but on her it looked captivating and so full of joy. Some eyes were revealing and open and some were so closed off that she feared that the person that possessed them lacked emotion. She began to crane her neck when she saw a particularly handsome boy turn a corner, but the man who was helping hold her upright gave a slight tug in the other direction.

"We have to put your stuff in your room, Lady Katara." Her fingers dug into the worn leather on his elbow as she looked up at him. He was leading her forward, and she followed slowly. The stairs were a terror and her body was tired, but thinking of going back into the large room fueled her motivation to push her body up to the second floor. When they showed her to her room she let them put her things in it before they left her and she sat on the bed. She quickly pulled the fabric bundle out of her wrappings and held it in her hands.

It was worn brown scraps, that had no doubt, been used to hold potatoes before.

She unwrapped it carefully, afraid to drop the contents.

There was a small crystal drop wrapped in beautiful blue fabric hanging from a worn leather string. As Katara examined it she noticed that it was actually a bottle, and with closer inspection she realized that at the top of the bottle there was a small crescent moon that if pulled opened, and inside was water.

Before she could do anything there was a knock at her door and one of the men was shouting about dinner. The small crystal bottle went back into her wrappings and she promised herself she would ponder its meaning later.

* * *

She was halfway through finishing her plate when she set her fork down; the meat pie was filling, and she could feel the inside of her stomach pressing against the food she had swallowed. She could not eat another bite or she feared she would puke. She took a small sip of the sweet wine in her goblet before setting it back down, and looking at all the men surrounding her. They were talking amongst themselves and most had finished their meals and were working on seconds. The boy who looked her age was sitting across from her, and was just finishing his first helping. She hoped he didn't take her harsh words from earlier today to heart.

"Do you want mine?" He swung his head towards her from where he was staring. They had both been given the spots on the bench at the very end of the table. Katara was positioned on the edge next to Bato, and had been narrowly avoiding conversation, choosing instead to observe all the people in the room. While the person sitting across from her had not participated in the conversation he had not been observing anyone else either. He had opted out and instead stared into nothingness. Now he was staring at her through confused eyes. His dark hair was in curls cropped close to his head, which was strange in comparison to most men in the North who took pride in their wolf tail. His eyes cleared and he managed a small blush under her penetrating stare. Katara's pretty trusting eyes had a way of raising emotion in others. Whether it be for the better or the worst. He shook his head quickly and looked down at his lap. Motherly instinct kicked in and Katara quickly placed her tin plate over his empty one.

"If you are anything like Sokka then one helping is never enough." When he didn't move his eyes from his hands in his lap she blinked a few times in confusion before adding, "Besides, I don't want to waste the food." He looked up at the plate and then back towards her. She smiled at him reassuringly when he didn't do anything.

"You are just like my sister." He laughed for a second before shaking his head and picking up his fork. Katara's smile turned into a grin at the possibility of being a familiarity to someone going into a strange place. "My name's Silas."

"Katara." He smiled up at her.

"I know who you are, Lady Katara."

* * *

Riding the next day wasn't as bad as it had been the day before. This time she had opted for staying close to Silas.

They reached the river docks quickly and she was mildly surprised to find five personal fire nation guards waiting to escort them back on the ship to King's Landing. Even more surprising than that, two of which were woman, and when Katara saw that she smiled so large it took a long time to fade.

Being on the ship for the first few days was strange, but she eventually came to enjoy it. She had spent most of the time on the edge watching the waves crash against the side and staring at her smell gift from Gran. She took joy in this most of all at night. With the moon above her and the water around her she felt an overwhelming sense of power that she had never felt before. She had begun to sleep in until noon and stay up until the few hours before the sun came up. It was becoming progressively worse until Bato told her that she was making everyone worry for her health, and he had asked one of the fire nation guards to lend her their tea herbs to help ease her into a restful sleep.

After a few days she felt a heat that she had never quite felt before. Instead of the sun just providing light it gave her warmth which gave her cause to get up early just to watch it rise. In those few days she learned to love the sun like she loved the moon, even if it didn't give her energy and strength.

Then a few days after that she saw land, and with the land rising up on the horizon she felt hope. Then when the boat dropped anchor and she was lowered into a smaller boat with arrangements of flowers and two female guards waiting for her, she felt anxiety. Anxiety in the form of water and nervousness coming up her throat and suffocating her. She felt sweat pool under her mess of curls on her bare neck. She had dressed in her prettiest blue gown that matched her eyes, and the pieces of hair that covered her face were twisted back. She could feel the humidity as she stared across the water at the fast approaching land. There was a large procession of people, and not one of them looked like her. They were in reds and golds where she had cool blues and silvers. Their hair was jet black, and their clothes were more immodest than she had ever seen.

When she arrived at the docks she was holding her mother's necklace nervously. She looked at the people before her as she was helped onto solid ground, but all she saw were tall guards. Her eyes fell to the creaking wood of the dock in disappointment when she realized that the prince had not come to meet her upon arrival.

"Lady Katara?" Her eyes snapped up at the deep raspy voice, but her eyes couldn't find purchase on its owner. Her hands dropped from her necklace. Then a man stepped forward that must have been at least a foot taller than herself, and her eyes widened slightly. He was tall and his hair was black and shiny as it was pulled back in a formal top knot. His skin was pale and smooth until it reached one feature that demanded attention. He had a scar on half of his face, and eyes of gold. His eyes were closed off to her and squinted as he stared at her wide blue ones. While she decided his eyes were that of wealth he decided that hers were like the ocean. She smiled widely at him in hope that maybe he would grace her with a smile of his own, only to be slightly disappointed when he kept his stoic expression. She gave a perfect curtsy and lowered her head; however she stared up at him from under her long lashes.

"Prince Zuko."


	4. An Old Man a New Occurrence

**A/N: I realize that it has been a few weeks, but I have been traveling with minimal wifi, and next to no downtime. I have not forgotten about this story already, but I just now got the chance to publish it. Personally, this is my favorite chapter so far. **

**If you actually took the time to read my author's note I would like to thank you because I know before I started writing I hardly ever stopped to read the author's note.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own ATLA or Game of Thrones or any of that beautiful jazz. **

* * *

The walk through the streets was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. When a palanquin had been presented surrounded by six measly men, Katara had narrowed her eyes in apprehension before looking over to the Prince. He leaned his tall form down to speak something to the stout man beside him, and soon the old man was smiling like a goon and waving off the small men and their means of transportation. Then the prince was stepping forward in the crowd after a few of his guards. He had his elbow out and his other arm crossed over his abdomen; he turned and stared at her through his molten gold eyes. Blocked, reserved eyes, while hers revealed confusion and mild giddiness.

"He means for you to take his arm, Lady Katara." Her eyes turned to ice as she glared at the voice.

"I know what he means, Bato."

"Then why aren't you taking his arm?" He smiled as she huffed and swung back around towards the crowds of people. They were all whispering and some were shouting at her. She caught a few words as they flew past her and around her.

"Look at her eyes."

"So blue."

She smiled when the Prince took her arm.

"She is so lucky."

"He's so handsome."

"The scar makes him look like a rogue."

The old man settled into their steady walk beside the man on her arm. He coughed suspiciously into his hand before nudging the prince with his arm. Katara watched curiously as the prince's good cheek turned ceremoniously red. She could hardly contain her laugh, but abruptly stopped when he turned his pink tinted face down on her. She could see his companion smiling devilishly next to him. Katara turned back to the prince who was still looking down on her. He was at least a foot taller than herself, but close to his face she could see he was younger than she had originally thought. About Sokka's age.

He cleared his throat before speaking, "You are very pretty, Lady Katara." She grinned up at him, and put her free hand to her mother's necklace subconsciously; she watched as he looked away and towards the old man, who smiled at him encouragingly. She heard a loud sigh before he turned back towards her, but his eyes were focused on something above her head. She watched as his eyes narrowed at a man in the crowd. Katara turned to look at the foreign people and buildings she had been neglecting. There was an abnormal amount of screams, and suddenly there was an old man running at her in the five foot distance of clear space between her and the crowd. Her eyes widened when she saw a flash of silver come from behind his back. She yanked her arm from the Princes, but before she could do anything in her defense there was a fire nation guard in front of her and she was being pulled away from him by one of her guards. The man struggled and pushed against the thick arms of the Fire Nation man; Katara stared at the wrinkled face in shock. His skin was pale and he had spots no doubt from the heat of the sun. The man bared his teeth at her like a wild animal. The teeth he had left were yellow and black. His voice was raspy and cruel, and it sounded as though all other voices halted in order to accommodate for his. His words were choppy, and not at all smooth.

"A Water Tribe _whore_ from the North has no place here!" She felt millions of eyes burning on her face, as the noise erupted louder than before. She pulled away from the guard holding her, to glare into the man's copper eyes, but her gaze was cut off by a man's back. The Prince. Katara's eyes were stormy and filling with angry tears; she fought against her guard to keep her eyes on the commotion of red and blue clad guards surrounding the old man.

"Let me go!" Her voice was full of anger and as much threat as she could manage. She fought and pulled against the arms wrapped around her middle to see what was happening to the offender, but he was too strong and Prince Zuko was too tall and thick with muscles. "I want to see!" She didn't attempt to filter her childish exclamations. She watched the Prince's back move as he barked out commanding words in a breathy language. Panic ran through her blood. She sent a quick prayer to Tui and La, pleading with them to not start the union of two cultures in death. Her eyes moved around to look all around her before she twisted and moved to look at the guard that was holding her in his arms, Silas. "What did he say?" He looked grim as he stared at the Prince who in turn raised a hand to the sky, fingers stretched. "What did he say, Silas?"

"I think they're going to kill him, Lady."

Shock was her first reaction, which then turned to dread. Without much thought she turned and bit down hard on Silas's hand. When she hit the stone ground she spit the blood out of her mouth and pulled herself up on shaky knees. She could feel Prince Zuko's eyes on her, and she looked up to meet them; one of her hands landed on the Prince's sleeve. His arm was still raised, but his fingers twitched once; his eyes looked clouded as Katara silently shook her head. He looked at her one more time out of the corner of his eye, but then he closed his palm into a fist. She turned quickly to look at the old man who was snarling at her as he kneeled. She hadn't noticed the sword until it was already connecting with his neck, and the man who had called her awful thing's life ended, his mouth stuck in a permanent growl. She was so close and short that his blood spattered her cheeks. A sound of protest crept up her throat, but it was drowned out by women and children's screams. She watched as his head rolled and his blood pooled; she knew she shouldn't care that a man who had tried to kill her was dead, but when his head came to a stop in front of her feet she brought her hand to her mouth to hold her anger and puke in. She turned around and removed her hand when she saw Silas coming towards her. Katara stared at the blood on her hands; she scrubbed at her cheeks in a panic, and she could hardly feel it smearing in her desperation. Hands grabbed her wrists and pulled them away from her face.

"Lady Katara. Come with me to the palanquin. I will help with the blood." The Prince's old companion. Katara looked at him holding her wrists, and then looked into his eyes that matched Prince Zuko's. This old man had kind wise eyes; they were open to her and showed her his compassion and concern. She walked with him hastily, as the people began to come back to their senses, and drill holes into their future queen and Fire Lady's bloody cheeks.

She feared they would blame her, that her people would come to harbor a hate for her before they were even hers.

This blood was on her hands.

* * *

The first five minutes of the palanquin ride was spent in silence as the man wiped at her hands gently with a small piece of cloth. All Katara could do was stare at him, and wonder about his strange form of kindness.

When he had finally finished with her hands, the blood on her face was crusty and dry. When he reached for her face she stopped him, and took the cloth out of his wrinkled stubby fingers and started rubbing the dry blood off her cheeks. It was the man's turn to stare at her.

"He meant well." The words startled her after the silence that she had been finding solace in. The yells and shouts in the background she tried to ignore.

"In killing a man?"

"A man who tried to kill you."

"A man who was too old to have long left. A man who died in the middle of a crowd of screaming women and children. A man whose body won't rest peacefully in the afterlife. He will be stuck in the spirit world walking without _aim_ or _purpose_. A man Prince Zuko has _doomed_." Her breath caught in her throat as she remembered who she was seated across from. She closed her eyes and subconsciously put her hand with the bloodied cloth to her mother's necklace.

When she opened her eyes a couple seconds later, the man was grinning from ear to ear as he stared up at her.

"You have a lot of fire in you for a Water Tribe Princess." She shifted her weight uncomfortably and scrubbed at her face harder than before.

"I am not a princess." He chuckled at her.

"No but you are nearly a Queen." She stopped to look at him, and for a little while wished the man had not requested a covered palanquin so she might have had something else to look at.

"Why did he kill him?" She did not have to say a name for him to know who she was talking about. Katara's eyes searched his questioningly.

"My nephew was trying to prove something to you."

"Nephew?"

"Yes." Katara's eyes widened and she immediately bowed her head.

"Firelord Iroh."

"Not for long. Rise, child." Katara slowly raised her head to look at his smiling face. In the North, they told stories around long wooden dining tables of the Firelord. They depicted him as a monster who breathed fire and killed men for looking him in the eye. They say he sat behind a wall of fire, and burned men alive as punishment. These stories could not have been about the man sitting in front of her. This man was a goof; this man was smiling at her like she was precious to him. She did not trust him. How could she?

There was a jolt in their previously smooth ride, and then the palanquin was being lowered and the heavy red fabric pushed aside. Iroh stepped into the sunlight first; Katara had dropped the damp cloth in her hand to feel her face for any leftover blood. Her skin was pinkish and sensitive to touch, but otherwise clean and smooth of blood. She was about to step out when a body came and blocked the smallish opening. It was a wonder Firelord Iroh had made it through so smoothly. Katara looked up at the regal man in front of her and took the hand he was offering after a small hesitation. She hoped he did not feel the small tremors in her hand, or the way her skin had an unusual coolness to it from anxiety and nervousness. She blinked at the sun, and looked at the large amount of people who had continued to follow the procession. She thought of the dead man and held her head higher than before. On the outside she was a strong woman with a prince on her arm; a lady meant to be a queen. On the inside she was a young girl trying to survive in a foreign world without her mother, utter turmoil.

She looked up at the steps before her and the palace that loomed in front of her behind an outer wall. It was red and gold and completely different than anything she had ever seen. She hadn't realized the Prince hadn't dropped her hand until they began their ascension of the stairs. At this point she was sure that her hands revealed her fear. She squeezed his hand tighter when the thought of him finding her weak crossed her mind. Her other hand held up her light dress as she carefully followed the Prince up the steps. The Firelord and guards were closely behind them.

When he reached the top of the steps the guards posted at the large door shouted orders in their breathy language that she had only heard the old man and Prince speak. Soon enough the doors were opening and they were stepping through into a large courtyard.

After everyone had made it through the doors, and they were shut, Katara pulled her hand away from the Prince. Both of her hands landed on her necklace as she closed her eyes for a couple seconds to calm her nerves. When she opened them again, the Prince was looking at her strangely but she disregarded him, and looked back at her guards. Her familiarity and comfort.

Bato came and stood next to her.

"You handled that very well." She looked over her shoulder at the Prince who kept giving her weary glances as he gestured for his guards to lead them into the Palace doors.

"Which part?" She was speaking under her breath, but Bato had no trouble hearing her bitter voice. "The cruel death of an old man, or the same man calling me a _whore_ and trying to kill me?" He gave her a pointed look as they followed the rest of the guards to the doors.

"Tread carefully, Lady Katara. We are on dangerous waters here." Katara's hands were clasped together and resting above the top of her ribs when another set of large ornate doors started opening to reveal the inside of a palace she had always hoped she would be able to avoid.

"The most beautiful things, are the ones that are poisoned, Bato."

* * *

**A/N: I will be much faster on the updating and finding of wifi next time.**

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**if you're dissapointed, tell me. If you are in love tell me. if you are confused PM me. if you just want to say you have read it... still tell me. **

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